


Nutjob

by GreyLiliy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2020-10-12 02:00:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20556350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: Cyclonus does not appreciate Whirl picking on Tailgate. Whirl, however, does appreciate Cyclonus taking an interest in him.





	Nutjob

**Author's Note:**

> [First posted to Tumblr on July 20, 2013 as “Drabble #21 - Whirl/Cyclonus.” Crossposted to Archive of Our Own on September 7, 2019. Only the work itself has been posted.]
> 
> Written as a Request.

“So you’re sure you don’t want to come to movie night?” Tailgate asked, hands clasped together and somehow managing to widen his visor to the point of absurd turbopup levels of begging.

Cyclonus was unmoved.

“Oh, okay then. That’s okay. Maybe next time,” Tailgate said, taking Cyclonus’ silence correctly as “No, I don’t want to go and sit with those annoying idiots”. Cyclonus was proud the minibot was learning. Tailgate opened the door to their shared hab-suite, and backed into the hallway, timidly.

Cyclonus was moved, however, and stood higher at attention when his little roommate bumped into Whirl.

“Watch it.” Whirl flicked the top of Tailgate’s helm with an extended claw, knocking the minibot over. Tailgate panicked his way to his peds, and the little bot moved away quickly. Whirl loomed over the tiny mech, lean and tall. “I’m walking here.”

“Sorry, Nutjob!” Tailgate said, scampering down the hallway. He stopped to wave. “I’ll see you later, Cyclonus!”

“Why that little,” Whirl said. His optic glowed and he stomped his foot. The empurata victim looked over at Cyclonus and shrugged his shoulder joints. “One time is funny, but he must have some cheek to think he can get away with that over and over! I think I actually need to kill him now.”

Cyclonus nabbed Whirl’s wrists and held the bot in place before he could chase after the little Tailgate. The helicopter looked over at him, tilting his head. Challenge accepted. Cyclonus squeezed when Whirl attempted to reclaim his arm. “He thinks ‘Nutjob’ is your name, and no one has cared to correct him. Get angry at everyone else if you must.”

“Oh, defensive are we,” Whirl said, the smirk in his voice even if it wasn’t on his face. He made little sucking noises somehow, and tapped his claws together. “Got a thing for minibots?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cyclonus said. Why did everyone assume that? Was he not allowed to keep company without fragging them? Cyclonus growled, and threw Whirl against the wall with a heavy thud. The masochistic copter giggled, of all things. Cyclonus twisted the ex-Wrecker’s arm back until a yelp came from his vocalizer. “I merely find picking on weaklings to be pathetic. No honor in it.”

“I’m starting to think you don’t know me very well,” Whirl said. He yanked his arm free from Cyclonus’ grip and kicked Cyclonus away from him. Whirl extended his limbs as far as they could go, making him taller until he could look down at the purple mech. Cyclonus was unmoved. Size was hardly an indicator of power in their species. Whirl was puffing his feathers at worst. Whirl clicked. “I don’t really do the whole ‘honor’ thing.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Cyclonus said. Ethics were wasted on Whirl. He was practically a Decepticon the way he acted. Brutal, a warrior. Cyclonus could appreciate that at least. However, it did mean he held Whirl to a higher standard of conduct. Cyclonus crossed his arms. “But allowing such disgustingly weak behavior in my presence from someone who is a warrior can not go unchecked.”

“So what are you going to do about it?” Whirl slid the tip of his claw down Cyclonus’ chest. Gentle enough to avoid scratching the surface, but still with that ever threat of danger. He was flirting. Cyclonus considered this, as Whirl continued. “Going to beat me up? Punish me? Considering who you used to run around with, I’d think you’d miss the tussle.”

Whirl was definitely flirting.

“You talk to much,” Cyclonus answered, rolling his optics. Why not humor him? He had been fairly bored himself these past few days. Cyclonus landed his fist just in the underside of Whirl’s cockpit. The other chuckled roughly through the pain, but didn’t hit back just yet. Cyclonus found himself flirting back. It was infectious. “Use that energy for something more productive.”

“Are you asking to fight or frag,” Whirl asked, voice amused. Flirting had gone out the window. Blunt tactlessness was reigning now. Whirl tapped the tip of Cyclonus’ remaining horn. The ex-commander felt the shiver all the way down. Whirl pushed his face into Cyclonus’. “Because I can’t tell at the moment.”

Cyclonus smirked, maneuvering the fist that was still in Whirl’s midsection until he could shove the copter into his room. Whirl hit the bunk, and turned on his rotors. Cyclonus had a few hours before Tailgate returned. “Why not both?”

“Oh, oh,” Whirl laughed. He hooked his claws into Cyclonus’ shoulders and pulled him closer. “This’ll be fun.”

“Indeed.”


End file.
